Adieu
by Tazou
Summary: Such a sorrowful end to dreams so fleeting like a flower. Eldarya-related drabble collection.
1. Chapter 1

Tantalization with the dash of charming naivety was one way to describe the woman. Her smile and wide eyes received most of his attention, much to the displeasure of other females. His ears noted the hurried steps in his direction, and he turned around to almost instinctively catch the woman; he twirled her around as a burst of laughter escaped her. And just as the twirl ended, he cradled her in his arms.

"Now, who is this, hm?" he said.

She stuck her tongue out as he placed her on the ground. The woman spun in front of the vampire, and her sable cloak fluttered. The golden patterns on the material, as well as the intricate design on the scabbard at her hip, glittered in the light. Ah, the woman was quite cute right now. He licked his lips.

"Hm, I suppose spoiling you has its benefits."

"Mm, are you saying you wouldn't have caught me? Besides, we're run-"

He smirked and leaned closer to her, and she shivered as his breath neared her neck.

"Hey...drink later. We have to go, remember?" She placed her hands on his chest, but he still lingered. He kissed her neck before he ran some of his fingers through her hair. She groaned as his lips brushed against her ear. He pulled away as he gazed at her flustered expression.

"I know. But lately, you've been denying me a drink. And I can't simply ask another girl."

"A-Ah, right...Is this bet that important?"

"For you to stay in my room more than a week? Of course! Regardless of whether I win or not, it'll be fun."

She let out an exasperated sigh. They proceeded to head out of the headquarters and exchanged banter along the way.

"What sort of suspicious activity were they talking about here?" she asked as they reached a forest.

"Didn't say. We just have to investigate. Don't get lost," he said as he pulled her hood over her head. He strolled ahead.

Trees surrounded them; however, their rotting trunks conflicted with the thick canopy above. Meanwhile, the woman's footsteps crunched against the ground, and she fidgeted with the cloak's hood. It was an inexpensive gift, and she wore it since that day. A fond memory was her wearing the cloak in the rain, as so happened a time ago. She returned late with tired eyes when he opened the door to his room. As soon as she placed the cloak somewhere to dry, he embraced her petite figure. Not a single drop touched her head.

As they walked, eerie silence continued to surround them. Only the sound of her footsteps echoed; no creature revealed itself. He stopped in his tracks, and she crashed into his back.

"Oh, sorry! Um..." She peered over his shoulder and gulped. "Should we head back...or..."

"Let's go." He grabbed her hand and almost dragged her as they retraced their steps. His grip tightened while his pace quickened.

"Ow! Why are you in such a hurry?"

"You didn't notice the fog moving closer?"

"Huh?!" The woman looked back and almost jumped.

He broke into a sprint, but the forest seemed to continue forever. They took a small break as her panting worsened.

"Ugh...Is something in the air? I don't remember being this fatigued," she said.

He sniffed the air before he adjusted his scarf to cover the lower half of his face. He gestured for her to continue moving, but her sudden, shocked expression caused him to look back. A growl escaped his throat as he grabbed the woman and pushed her ahead of him. She started to sprint, but she looked back as the fog engulfed him.

He blinked a few times and sighed when the sound of her running disappeared. A soup of misty gray covered the area. The musty air only increased his suspicion; there was a peculiar scent, yet at the same time, he smelled something else. He took out his knife. Someone...or thing was here, but he only heard his breathing. That presence still loomed as he looked around. Out of the corner of his eye, a shadowy blur moved. He turned, and soft shuffling came after...Was it moving away? A few seconds passed before the noise returned. He followed it, and the shuffling turned into hurried steps. The pursuit continued until the glimmer of a blade charged at him. He dodged the attack but grimaced...When was the sword brandished? He would have heard the motion. The vampire continued to dodge the attacks, and other times his knife clanged against the blade. He saw this style of swordsmanship before, but...

However, sometimes when the weapons clashed, no sound ringed in the air. Even the movement of feet was absent while the sword danced. This fog... He saw the glint of the blade head toward him again, but when it neared, the man sidestepped and threw a series of throwing knives at the blur. It stopped its movement; he took out another knife. The scent of blood irritated him as he approached the figure. Before it moved again, the vampire managed to lodge the weapon in its chest. He pushed it deeper, but a familiar scent overwhelmed him. He yanked the knife out, and the sword fell to the ground. The fog seemed to dissipate enough for him to see a sable cloak as he caught the individual. His other knives stuck out of the abdomen, but those objects allowed the ground to soak in fresh crimson. No, no, no, no...

"Why did you come back?!"

Silence. He repeated his words but in a more hoarse voice. A string of curses left his mouth when he picked her up and started to move. Ah, he should have tried to stop the bleeding...The musty air was stained with her scent that mingled with blood.

"...Nevra…? A-Are you...?"

"Just stay awake, all right? Please."

"...Mm..." Her head moved against his shoulder. "It's...not your fault. I'm not mad or..."

"I don't appreciate lying, if you recall," he said. Even though he traveled as fast as he could, the fog followed him like a dog. He spied a smile on her face, and it only caused him to return his gaze to ahead. He only smelled the blood that continued to drip.

"I'm...telling...the truth."

"Why did you come back then?"

No response. He gritted his teeth and quickened his pace, but it seemed as if he ran in circles in this fog.

"You're...an idiot...to think I would leave you behind to that...Nev...ra...c-can you..."

"What?"

"Just...put me...do...wn...please..."

He slowed to a stop but hesitated. His clammy hands tightened and relaxed their grip on her. And those words came out again. And again. And again. They repeated once more, and he gently set her on the ground. That woman...she grinned at him as he leaned over her. Her ragged breathing continued as she touched the wound on her chest. He flinched.

"...I don't...have...re...grets," she said.

He nodded. When her wide eyes glanced at him, he looked away.

More blood seeped onto the cloak, and the earth drank the rest. Even as she called his name over and over, only the ground got his attention. His posture stiffened when she embraced him. Her blood spilled onto him, and that cursed scent enveloped his mind as if to comfort. His arms refused to hold her once again.

"I...don't h-hate you...I...nev...er could...I-I..."

"You think forgiveness can fix this? You think...leaving me will fix everything?"

She laughed before the arms around him slackened. He forced a smile, but his hands trembled as he pulled the body off of him. And even now, that revolting scent lingered in the air.


	2. Chapter 2

"Is that an order as the leader of the Absynthe Guard?"

"Yes…and no," he said.

They sat on her bed, and his arms wrapped around her waist. His chin rested on top of her head. It was magical in a way as moments of silence passed between them. She reached behind her to pet his head, and his posture stiffened for the briefest of moments only to relax afterward. She let out a soft giggle as she imagined what sort of expression he had as her fingers caressed soft strands of hair. Perhaps it would have been better to stand in the hallway and to talk – exchange some remarks here and there – and to pass by as if nothing happened.

She shifted and swayed back and forth in his arms. "Hmph. The oh-so-cold elf is worrying about me? What has this world come to?"

"How audacious of you to think I'm the only one to worry about your existence. Perhaps I should be like the rest of them and not care. It wouldn't be the first time."

"Hah, really. It's getting harder to tell whether you're serious or not. It's strange." The woman leaned back and looked up. He let out a grunt as a response.

"You know, it takes two to make an accident," she said.

"Is that so?"

She smiled and moved away from him. She stood, stretched, and yawned, but he watched her from the bed. The sight of disheveled, blue hair taunted her.

"Yes. For example…" she trailed off as she turned and leaned toward him. Her hands reached for his ponytail, and she quickly untied the band. She, with a snicker, dodged his grasp. The elf's hair had cascaded around his shoulders while an irritated expression only caused her to wave the object in front of him.

"See? Ac-ci-dent."

"How cute, love."

She winked. "Anything to keep you crawling back to my bed, honey."

The woman toyed with the band in her fingers as she dodged another attempt to get it back. His annoyance thrilled her. Sure, his happiness and his sarcasm created wonderful memories, but her heart beat a little faster with the little shenanigans she inflicted onto him.

"I'll give it back when I return, okay? Don't you have a spare?"

He crossed his arms. "Or just return it now."

"Think of it as honoring your 'order', Sir," she said. She saluted in front of him before she sprinted out of the room and into the hallway…

––

Again…Again, this blurry world came back. An anguished groan escaped her as she scanned her surroundings; the sword that impaled her abdomen still kept her in place. With some remaining strength, the woman pulled it out. A soft scream left her as she fell on her side. The dreary, gray fog hung to the ground in a pitiful comfort, and the bark scratched her back. Chaos erupted when she and other members were ambushed, but the others escaped because of her acting as a scapegoat. She spied the scarlet that stained her clothes. When a sigh escaped her lips, it was accompanied by an involuntary cringe.

"So…that's it…" She looked off into the distance. Perhaps if she squinted enough, that building would come into sight. Perhaps, if she saw that place again, her heart could dance to that dream. A soft laugh left her...What was the point? It wouldn't return now.

It hurt. It hurt so much. The woman cursed whatever woke her up as she blinked away tears. Even now, inevitability feasted on her fading thoughts and memories. Ah, the past…To her, it would be something beautiful and irreplaceable, but…He wouldn't see it as that anymore. Would she be remembered at least? The woman reached inside her jacket and pulled out a thin, teal band.

She let out another laugh and closed her eyes. Her grip on the band slackened.

"Sorry…I couldn't…return…to you…"

Meanwhile, in a lonely laboratory, a flask fell and smashed into pieces.


	3. Chapter 3

She hummed a melody as she stared at the bedroom ceiling. The sound of a nasally and quite unbearable voice comforted the woman. For several days, she stayed in this room.

"Miiko's orders," a rabbit-eared girl had said. "Um...you really don't remember my name?"

"I don't think we ever met."

"Oh, I see...Nevermind."

Other people brought food to the door, and they all tried to talk to her as she ate. But they all gave her a look of pity when she smiled. Meanwhile, remembering was quite…yes, quite difficult. The past blurred and refocused and blurred; unfamiliar yet nostalgic faces that should have names were the most prominent… She looked around the decorated room and sighed. The various colors of the walls and bed hurt her eyes which were accustomed to the lonely shadows of a cell. She fidgeted with the blankets when someone knocked on the door.

"Come in," she said.

The door opened and the almost blonde man entered the room. His clothing didn't hurt her eyes at least. He liked to check up on her ever since she came here; other individuals visited too such as that rabbit-eared girl and a unicorn-looking man, but he showed up more than either of them. He had a strange habit of resting his chin on his hand whenever he talked.

"I already told...um...that Yhkar person everything I know," she said as he sat on the edge of her bed.

"That's good. But I'm here for a different reason."

She fidgeted with the blankets again while he stared at the bedroom ceiling. The woman gulped.

"Are you all right?"

She nodded. He exhibited a calm aura, but there was something in his eyes whenever he looked at her. The forced smiles added to the...to something, and that alone was uncomfortable.

"So, do you remember anything before being captured?"

Her fidgeting ceased. "...Not much."

Again, that look appeared in his eyes as he nodded. The other people had disappointment in their eyes, but he looked more…

"Did you lose something?"

He sighed. "Not something...someone. She's here...but not."

"I...don't quite follow."

The man chuckled. "She's important to me particularly, but it's no longer the same for her."

A brief silence settled in the air as she started to play with the sheets again. Perhaps...curiosity wasn't the best option…But…

"And why is that?"

The man stood up abruptly as he smiled again. "Because" – his hand reached out and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear – "I failed..I have to go now, but I promise to come back later."

The woman watched as he walked out, but he stopped for a moment before he actually left. She touched the spot where his fingers brushed against her ear.


	4. Chapter 4

Lost time floated endlessly in the haunting abyss of pretty dreams. Memories that should have been, memories that have been, memories that have never been all compiled into a single regret. He woke to the cold emptiness of a bed. No amount of blankets or cushions restored the warmth. Winter alone lasted for a long time. Maybe it had always been winter? But no matter. This was his punishment in the end.

He trained from morning to evening. And whatever time left was taken by basic needs of food and water and assigned missions. Dummies lay in shambles after one week and often had to be replaced. The boys offered to spar—even some from his own guard— but they all tired in the end. But Valkyon continued. He had to continue. Today, he readied his weapon against the wooden dummy. What was his purpose at this point? Nothing mattered anymore. At the end of the day, he was a weapon to protect and defend. That's all. Nothing mattered anymore. Nothing could matter anymore since she was taken away.

Thunk. The dummy shuddered from the force. To him, she shined brighter than the stars: charisma to where even the plants bowed down, eyes full of wonder for a cruel world, laughter so melodious that not even the best instrument compared. There was the sort of charming wit irritated and attracted Valkyon time after time. Thunk. But all beautiful lights were destined to fade out. Thunk. That day refused to vanish from his weeping mind.

The wood shrieked as it cracked. Yet he hit it. Over and over and over. Yes, that day. That gruesome day she allowed herself to become a mere shell. A puppet. This path of betrayal, she once said, was the only path to take.

"Don't apologize. It's the only place where I feel I have a purpose. Not here...Goodbye."

And only disgust filled him while those thorns wrapped around her. They whispered lies and paranoia. And he blamed himself for her leaving. His fault that she strayed from everything in favor of nothing. It was...ironic. Like that dryad, that woman allowed herself to ingest a piece of crystal. Embers danced in the smoke. And while the city burned from a direct assault, they faced off against each other. And yet. And yet...! He could not deliver the finishing blow as she, in a frenzied state, lay on the ground. Those eyes he admired only glared with a burning hatred; those lips he kissed in the summer gloom now snarled as rage clouded her judgement. But he could not move. In that moment, she got to her feet and was about to strike. Were it a second earlier...Death by her hands...Was it something he could accept?

Instead, his eyes widened when that rapier impaled her chest. Soon after, knives soared through the air and smothered any attempt to retaliate. Then, she laughed. Her melodious laughter turned into a fit of coughing, and the piece of crystal dropped to the ground. The body soon sagged and fell like a broken doll after Ezarel pulled out the blade in one fluid motion. Blood stained his clothes and part of his cheek. Meanwhile, Nevra caught up to them and tried to catch his breath.

"It's fine to hate me," the elf said.

"Ez...Talk later...The fire..." Nevra pulled his scarf to cover his face and to muffle his coughs. "Come on...!"

"But..."

"Go. I'll...catch up," Valkyon said.

The two men glanced at each other; they sprinted toward the source of the flames. And he...fell to his knees. And cried, no, screamed at the world.

Finally, he stopped. The training dummy turned into a pile of wood again. He set aside his weapon and cleaned up the mess. A nostalgic sunset painted itself on the horizon as he returned to his room. These days, exhaustion was the only thing to put him to sleep. And when he closed his eyes, a fond, unforgettable memory played.

He had lost Floppy again. After hours of searching, he stumbled upon that melodious laughter. She sat against a windowsill and looked out toward the collage of orange and pinks and blues. Floppy rolled around in the palm of her hand, and she laughed. That woman then saw his standing in the hall; the way she moved caused the light to reflect in a certain manner. She was dazzling. Too dazzling. Their gazes met.

"Ah, this is your familiar? Quite cute!"

But then that memory started to break. It shattered into pieces. Pieces that descended into oblivion. And all the while, her voice reverberated in that darkness. Mocked him. Scolded him. Yelled at him. Oh, the failure. The guilt. He was drowning.


	5. Chapter 5

It was a simple thing to do—to weave flowers into her hair. Flowers from the forest or found by his familiar. Pretty flowers that shined brighter than the sun, stars, and moon. That girl even taught him, for she decorated his hair while he slept once upon a time. Annoying at first, but not intolerable as time passed. And here they were as history almost repeated itself. Variations of gold and silver and pinks and oranges sat tangled in hair. Admittedly, his hands trembled at the possibility of disturbing her rest. Ezarel could not remember the last peaceful expression.

That girl talked about the flower language once. She rested against him as they read a book—though the answering of questions was pestering—and the topic of vegetation appeared. Nostalgic discussions, of course, ensued. In a soft, almost saddened tone, the different meanings of flowers were mentioned. Petunias to daisies to white roses and black roses and carnations and tulips. And the page turned.

It was such a pretty smile. Warm and colorful just like the flowers in that girl's hair. A captivating sight that almost hurt to look and accept as real. Nonetheless, it was sort of smile he could hold. Watching that irritating, charming, childish side had never been so fulfilling.

She waited. Alone. Under the protection of a simple hooded garment. The elf gifted the attire when he found out about her nightly strolls; the material shielded that girl from rain and cold and loneliness. Flowers had long wilted from that day, and the act of obtaining new ones was a waste.

"Not until he returns," the girl said.

And she waited. Alone. Under the protection of a simple vow and affection.

Insistence and a promise of uncertainty. That was all. Why was it different than all the other missions? Then there was a lazy smile and playful glint in his eyes while she stood at arm's length. A brief kiss for farewell. A soon-to-be last farewell.

It was such a pretty smile. A smile to believe in as the bad things and good things happened. That girl wanted to believe in his smile. Tears fell. Tears fell when the elf would normally wipe them from her cheek.

Years ticked like seconds, and snow sprinkled over the area. Kero flipped through another book and checked it off the list. There was a sign in relief until he noticed a particular tome on the floor. After some seconds of turning its pages, his expression darkened; the young man, book in hand, left the library. The keys to her room. Of course. There was some fumbling, but he managed. And when the door shut, Kero sighed. Flowers spread throughout the room. Vines decorated the walls and ceiling; petals lay on the floor in silence. Others also took turns in tending to the plants. It began as a pitiful obsession by her, but no one said anything. No one could say anything, but the obligation fell to friends. He opened the book to the next blank page. Prior pages contained pressed flowers from this sorrowful room. An azure, ten-petal blossom should work for today.

"He hasn't returned yet. But we've managed. Oh, the flowers are doing great if you're wondering. Eweleïn is particularly helpful...Hahah, and Ykhar almost overwatered one..."

He paused and looked at the open page. "...You don't need to worry anymore. We'll still be here. It's okay to rest. Have a good sleep, okay?"

...There was a sigh. Those sentences echoed without a response. The tome was set onto the cold bed, and Kero soon locked the room. A parting glance at the worn door before he returned to the library. It was strange to feel as if the girl had continued to wait, no matter how long, even if it took more time than eternity, for that person. Alone. Under the protection of flower-filled memories.


End file.
